Rough Waters
by amillionsmiles
Summary: Kit's grandfather has just died. Since she isn't 18 yet, Kit is sent to live with her Aunt Rachel. Adjusting to high school for the first time in her life is hard, especially since Kit has no idea of the societal dynamics of high school and starts off on the wrong foot. Still, she finds a family in Mercy and Judith. And then there's Nat... Modern AU
1. Chapter 1: Hope

**A/N:** So I know that not a lot of people go on the Witch of Blackbird Pond Archive, but this idea has been lingering in the back of my head for a long, long time, and I finally sat down and just started writing. This is just a little project of mine, so my updates probably won't be very consistent, but I still wanted to share it with those who love the Witch of Blackbird Pond as much as I do.

Now, some information about the actual story: This is a semi-retelling of the Witch of Blackbird Pond, but in modern day, so it's an AU fic. However, not all the events in this story have their counterparts in the real book, and vice versa. I took liberties with some things to make it work, added other events and descriptions, and so, in a way, this piece can stand alone-you don't have to have read the Witch of Blackbird Pond to understand it.

And, since this is getting long, I'll finish up the rest of my extended Author's Note at the end of the chapter. Anyways, enjoy! :)

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><p><strong>Chapter 1.<strong>

Kit ducked her head as she pushed through the airport doors, dragging her suitcases out behind her and trying to avoid the questioning stares. She was sure they all thought she was silly, with her seven suitcases arranged around her, but Kit had worked hard to cram every one of her belongings into them. She hadn't wanted to leave anything behind at Grandpa's house, and mourned that soon enough the beautiful crystal chandelier that had hung over their foyer would be sold, finding a home in some other wealthy buyer's house.

"Katherine Tyler?" a man's voice asked. Kit looked up, and was greeted by the sight of a broad-shouldered man holding a briefcase. He frowned at her baggage.

"Oh, yes. That would be me," Kit answered, relieved to have a helping hand. "Are you from the agency?"

"Yes," the man answered gruffly. "I'm Mr. Eaton, in charge of handling all your papers. I believe you've talked to my wife several times on the phone."

"Yes. She's a wonderful lady," gushed Kit, truthfully. After her grandfather's death, there had been a question of where Kit was to live, since she wasn't of legal age yet. The agency in charge of selling her grandfather's house had asked if she had any living relatives—only one, Kit had recalled, a long-lost aunt by the name of Rachel. The agency had arranged two sponsors for Kit to handle her transportation fees, legal paperwork, and to make sure she settled in nicely with Aunt Rachel. The couple, the Eatons, had kept in touch with her through the whole process, and Mrs. Eaton had offered condolences for Kit's loss. Over several phone conversations, the two women had gotten to know each other, and Kit felt fondly towards the older woman.

"She is," agreed Mr. Eaton, his countenance brightening at the mention of his wife. "My car's right here; let me help you with your things."

"Thank you," Kit said gratefully, rolling her belongings to the edge of the curb. One by one, Mr. Eaton arranged them, the final product looking much like a Tetris puzzle.

"I'm afraid this bag doesn't fit," he said, handing back her duffel bag. "You'll have to hold it on the ride there." He jerked his head towards the interior of the car, and Kit opened the door and slid in, holding her duffel bag tightly. Already, she felt out of place—the weather in Connecticut wasn't nearly as pleasant or balmy as it was in Florida. The trunk slammed shut, shaking the car slightly, and Kit fumbled with her seatbelt. Mr. Eaton slid into the driver's seat, starting the car.

They finally pulled away from the airport curb, and Kit closed her eyes as she rested her head against the window, soothed by the rattle of the car as it moved along.

"So, Katherine—"

"Kit," corrected Kit instinctively, not bothering to open her eyes. Mr. Eaton glanced up at the rear view mirror.

"Kit," he amended, "Mrs. Eaton and I have talked with your aunt, so she should be expecting you when we get there." Kit nodded, then, unsure if Mr. Eaton could see her gesture, said, "Thank you. I really appreciate it."

"It's our job," said Mr. Eaton, eyes ahead as he switched lanes. Kit listened to the steady hum of traffic while she waited for Mr. Eaton to continue. "So, how do you like Connecticut?"

"It's…pleasant enough," Kit decided, though she missed the sparkling water and palm trees of the state she'd left behind.

"It gets prettier in the summer," Mr. Eaton said, amiably. "Now, what was the address again?" He scrutinized the piece of paper on the seat beside him. "Blast, I can't quite seem to make it out."

"I've got it," Kit said, fishing a crumpled piece of paper out of her jeans, on which she'd scrawled Aunt Rachel's address. She'd looked at it so often that she'd memorized it. "Number 3, High Street."

"Oh, it's up ahead," Mr. Eaton sounded satisfied, and Kit realized that they'd already entered a subdivision where cozy looking red brick houses lined the streets. Nothing so fine as Grandpa's home, but the houses looked welcoming enough, and for that Kit was grateful.

After a few minutes, Mr. Eaton pulled up into the driveway of one of the houses and removed the key. The car died down with a gentle purr.

"There now, let's get your things," he said, unloading her suitcases for her. Together they wrangled the bags down the driveway and to the porch, where apprehension suddenly seized Kit. "Go on," Mr. Eaton urged. "Ring the doorbell." Feeling silly and self-conscious, Kit did, listening as the sound echoed through the house in front of them. Footsteps padded to the door, which opened, framing a woman of about fifty, with a few gray streaks in her hair.

"Oh, my," marveled the lady, taking in Kit. "You've grown up into such a beautiful young woman. And you look so much like your mother. It's Katherine, isn't it?"

"Kit," corrected Kit, yet again. "Aunt Rachel?" she asked, still awkward and unsure.

"Oh, yes, of course. Come in, come in. Just a second, let me—" Aunt Rachel stopped to clear some shoes out of the way as Mr. Eaton brought Kit's belongings into the house. Kit stood looking around the foyer, taking in the carpeted staircase and wooden banister. To her disappointment, above their head hung only a large lamp, not nearly as delicate or grand as the chandelier back in Florida. "Mercy! Judith! Kit's here—come down and meet her!" Aunt Rachel called, before finally taking notice of Mr. Eaton. "Oh, goodness, excuse my manners. I'm Rachel Wood, I believe we spoke on the phone…" Kit didn't hear the rest of their conversation, her attention caught by the two girls who came into view.

The first scurried down the stairs quickly, coming to a stop in front of Kit and examining her with a critical eye. Kit did much the same, except she found nothing to criticize—the girl was gorgeous, and beside her, Kit's slightly curly brown hair appeared dull and limp.

The girl had bright blue eyes under thick lashes, creamy white skin, and shoulder-length black hair that curled gently. Her lips were full, and as she studied Kit, they pursed. Finally, she spoke. "I'm Judith," she declared, and the very tone in which she said it left Kit no doubt that Judith was comfortable in her skin and confident.

"Kit," Kit returned politely, offering a smile. Judith's gaze slid past her and towards her trunk.

Behind Judith, descending much slower, but with an air of grace, came the other girl. Like Judith, she had creamy white skin and black hair, but her eyes were gray. Despite their color, though, a warm light filled them, and Kit felt welcome in the house for the first time.

"And I'm Mercy," the girl introduced, her voice soft but sweet. "I'm really sorry to hear about what happened with your grandfather. But you're here with us now, and I hope you'll like it."

"Thank you," Kit said, her throat tight. It seemed that the only words she could say were her name and 'Thank you.' Looking up at Mercy, it was then that Kit noticed that Mercy's shoulders were slightly uneven. It wasn't particularly prominent, but it did make Mercy's figure look slightly crooked, as if she were leaning down one way more than the other, instead of standing straight. Mercy, noticing Kit's gaze, smiled kindly and explained. "I have scoliosis," she said, no trace of resentment in her voice. Kit, horrified at being caught in the act, stammered and attempted to apologize.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare—"

"No, it's alright," Mercy said with a gentle shrug of her shoulders. "It's better that you know."

Off to the side, Aunt Rachel finally finished signing all the paperwork, and bid Mr. Eaton goodbye with a friendly wave. Closing the door, she sighed, then turned to Kit.

"You poor dear," Aunt Rachel said, moving to embrace Kit. "It must be so hard for you—your grandfather was a wonderful man." She pulled back, studying Kit's face. "Now, let's get you settled in, why don't you? Here, you must be hot in here. Judith, take her jacket and hang it on the coat rack."

"It's okay," Kit started to protest, but was stopped short and Judith held out a hand. Embarrassed, Kit peeled off her pea coat and handed it to Judith. A gasp came from Judith as she hung it on the rack.

"Burberry!" she exclaimed, studying the label. "But that must have cost almost 700 dollars!" Three pairs of eyes turned towards her—Judith's astonished, Aunt Rachel's perturbed, Mercy's kind.

"I…" stammered Kit. "Grandpa always insisted on buying me nice clothes—"

"I'll bet those jeans are designer, too," Judith said, her voice almost accusing. Her eyes took on a wishful look. "If Dad could afford to buy me clothes like that, I'd be the toast of Wethersfeld High."

Kit wriggled uncomfortably under Judith's blue-eyed gaze. She wanted so badly to be accepted here, and, in an attempt to gain some favor, blurted, "You're about my size. I've got some clothes you could have, if you'd like."

Judith stared at her suspiciously. Her eyes darted towards the suitcases, then back to Kit's brown eyes, and suddenly she seemed less sure. "Really?"

"Really," Kit said. "Here." She moved to open one, letting the top fall back gently to reveal layers of gently folded clothes, from brand-names like Calvin Klein, Juicy Couture, Chanel, and DKNY.

"Oh my god," Judith exhaled, her face lighting up. "These are gorgeous!" She pulled out a deep blue Vera Wang dress, with a black line under the bust, and held it up to herself. "Oh, Mom, don't you agree?" Aunt Rachel watched her daughter, a faint smile playing across her lips.

"It is," assured Kit. "And the blue really brings out your eyes. You should take it."

"I'll be a knockout in this," laughed Judith, tossing her head. She looked at Mercy. "Mercy, we need to find something for you, too."

"Oh, no, I don't need anything," Mercy shook her head. But Judith, not one to take no for an answer, fished out a silk scarf. It was turquoise, and one of Kit's favorites because of the tropical hues. A little bit of orange and light green ran along the edge of the scarf, and as Judith draped it around Mercy's neck, it settled against Mercy's skin with a sigh. Judith clapped her hands in delight. "It's perfect!" she said. "And you do need some more color in your wardrobe, after all."

"Oh, alright," consented Mercy, shaking her head slightly at her younger sister's antics. "But really, Kit, are you sure? This is so nice—I can't take it from you."

"It's not a big deal, really," Kit said, waving her hand. She looked towards Aunt Rachel. "Aunt Rachel?"

"Oh, no, dear. I'm much too old to get away with wearing something like that," smiled Aunt Rachel, but Kit could see a faint amount of longing in her eyes.

"How about a purse, then?" Kit wondered, pulling out a Coach purse.

"I couldn't," began Aunt Rachel, before her eyes widened. "Oh, my. That _is_ a nice purse."

"Then take it!" the three girls burst out, laughing. Kit watched as Aunt Rachel slid the purse onto her shoulder, and then, with a mischievous—albeit faint—grin, she struck a pose. Judith collapsed into peals of laughter.

"You look great, Mom," she assured. Aunt Rachel opened her mouth to respond, but stopped as a man entered the room, looking angry.

"What is all this noise about?" he questioned. Kit almost shrank back from his scowl, which, paired with his overshadowing, bushy eyebrows, gave the man a grim look. His eyes swept across the scene. And what a sight they were, Kit thought; Mercy with a scarf tied loosely around her neck, Judith still clutching the dress to her chest, Aunt Rachel in the middle of modeling a purse. Judith found her voice first.

"Kit was showing us all her clothes," she said, her chin jutting out in a somewhat defiant matter. The man raised an eyebrow.

"Don't you have enough clothes as it is, young lady?" he asked.

"Oh, Matthew," pleaded Aunt Rachel, "let the girls have some fun." Matthew's eyes drew together as he examined his wife.

"What is that?" he asked, referring to the purse. Aunt Rachel took it off her shoulder hurriedly.

"It's nothing," she said. "But really, Matthew, the girls were just having some fun."

"They can have fun doing other, less shallow things than trying on clothes," frowned Matthew, studying his younger daughter. "Judith, put that thing down. I don't like it on you—the cut is too low."

"Dad, it isn't! It just looks like that because I haven't actually put it own yet!" protested Judith.

"It's indecent," Matthew said firmly. "And Mercy, what about you? You're normally above these things. Judith, I can understand, but you've always put your studies first—when did you start caring about silly things like clothes?"

"Matthew!" Aunt Rachel cried, scandalized. Mercy opened her mouth.

"I…" she looked to the side, ashamed. "I don't know."

"Good. Now that that matter's settled, put the clothes away and do something productive." Kit, after staying silent for so long, finally regained control of her voice.

"But, Uncle Matthew," she burst out, "those are gifts! They're mine, and I want Mercy and Judith and Aunt Rachel to have them." The other three women turned towards Kit, eyes wide.

"And who is this?" Uncle Matthew asked, his eyebrows drawing together even more. Aunt Rachel laid a hand on his arm.

"Why, it's Kit—Margaret's daughter. Remember? I told you that we took custody of her. She's living with us now."

"Goodness, she sure brought a lot of stuff," Uncle Matthew remarked, assessing Kit's things. "Where is she going to sleep?"

"With Judith," answered Aunt Rachel. "We've pulled out a mattress for her for the time being, but you and I will need to go out and purchase a bed."

"Oh, no!" exclaimed Kit, horrified. "I don't want to be a burden! I'll pay!" Uncle Matthew turned towards her with a skeptical look.

"And where, do tell, will you get the money?" Kit's face turned red under his scrutiny, but she managed an answer anyways.

"Grandfather set up an account for me that he's deposited money in every year since I was little. It's built up quite a lot of interest, and I've got money to spare—" A vein on Uncle Matthew's neck bulged, and his face grew stormy.

"Now listen here, young lady. In this house, we don't toss around 'money' like it's nothing. And I won't have you putting that into my daughters' heads, either. They know what _really_ matters in life—family and hard work, and I'll appreciate it if you will do nothing to change that. Now, you will let us pay for anything you need and be done with it. Keep your blasted money," Uncle Matthew said, jaw working furiously. "Are we clear?" Kit recoiled, stung by his words.

"Y-yes," she managed, feeling her eyes prickle with tears as she hung her head in shame. "I…thank you."

"Now, I'm going to work," Uncle Matthew said, grabbing his jacket from the coat rack. He noticed Kit's hanging on it, too, and once more his jaw clenched. Then he was out the door, leaving only silence in his wake.

The four females cleaned up the mess they made and brought Kit's belongings upstairs, where Judith gave a tour of the second floor of the house, as well as her room. "You'll be staying here," she said, finally, indicating the aerobed that took up one side. "Mom's getting blankets and pillows for you. And you can put your stuff in my closet." Kit looked at the closet doubtfully—it didn't seem like it would fit all her suitcases, but she began unpacking quietly. Judith stood watching for a while before turning to leave. She stopped in the doorway, adding, uncertainly, "And, um, what my dad said earlier—don't let it upset you too much. He just gets like that sometimes."

Kit swallowed and nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and waited until Judith was gone before she started hanging up her clothes.

Aunt Rachel came in a short while later, carrying an armful of linen sheets. She set them down gently before sitting next to where Kit sat, staring at the suitcases she had yet to unpack.

"I'm sorry about my husband, Kit," Aunt Rachel apologized, running one hand over the linen bedspread. "He just… he's very adamant about working hard, and I think that sometimes he forgets girls need to have fun. And I don't suppose he's all too happy about being outnumbered in this house—now it's four to one," Aunt Rachel said, smiling, although it came out as a rueful sort of smile. "Those are some very nice clothes you have, by the way. You've got excellent taste."

"Thanks, I guess," Kit said, disheartened. "I don't suppose Uncle Matthew would like me flaunting them, though."

"It would be a waste not to wear them, though," Aunt Rachel said, looking up at the shirts Kit had already hung up. "However, they're so nice that I'm worried they'll get spoiled, dirtied, or ripped if you wear them to school."

"School!" Kit's head whipped up. She'd completely forgotten! "I haven't even gotten any supplies, yet!"

"Don't worry, you've got a few days before it starts," reassured Aunt Rachel. "We'll have to go out shopping for those tomorrow, along with some less expensive, every-day clothes. Mrs. Eaton tells me you haven't ever been to school."

"Not with others," agreed Kit. "Grandpa homeschooled me, and he hired a tutor to teach me at home. I've never been to public school."

"It'll take some getting used to," Aunt Rachel told her. "But Mercy and Judith will guide you."

"I…" Kit struggled to put her feelings into words. "I'm really thankful for everything you've done for me, Aunt Rachel. I know I've said it ten times over, but I know how much of a hassle it must have been organizing all my papers and getting me settled, and I really, really appreciate that."

"Of course, Kit!" Aunt Rachel said, hugging Kit. "You're like our daughter, now. I wouldn't do anything less." Kit tentatively hugged Aunt Rachel back, some of her hope returning.

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><p><strong>AN:** Well, there it is-the first chapter! Although I said this is just a side project, I'd still really appreciate feedback/if you're interested in this story/if you'd like me to continue. Thanks for reading. :)


	2. Chapter 2: Prudence

**A/N:** Thanks for the positive responses, guys! All three of you. :) Here's the next chapter. Read and review! :)

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><p><strong>Chapter 2.<strong>

"Here," Judith indicated, dragging Kit into yet another shop. "They've got some cheap, cute T-shirts over here." Kit followed, but her feet were sore from trekking all through the mall the whole day with Judith. They still hadn't purchased their school supplies. As Judith began sifting through the clothing racks, Kit's eyes wandered until she caught sight of the shop right across from her.

The cheerful twinkle caught her eye—that, along with the many kids streaming in and out. The shop seemed to deal in cutesy, kitschy toys, but Kit found the sound of carousel music strangely enticing. Sneaking a look at Judith, who was busy exclaiming about how none of the stores had the right style jeans, Kit ducked behind a rack and hurriedly made her way across to the toy store.

Once there, she ignored the strange looks she got from the parents, instead choosing to smile at the younger children, a kindred spirit among them. Kit admired the wide-eyed innocence of the young ones; they weren't so quick to judge, much more content to admire the beautiful displays.

At one of the displays, she caught sight of a small girl with stringy brown hair and wide eyes. The girl stared longingly at a doll in a glass case. The doll's features were carefully etched on a delicate, rubber face. It had bright blue eyes, arched eyebrows, and a dainty mouth and nose. It was about eighteen inches tall, and not as thin as the other dolls, but rounder, with a plush body. Obviously, it was created with the intent of being huggable, an object to be cradled in its owner's arms. The doll looked like a representation of an angelic toddler, instead of the chic, more mature dolls that lined some of the higher shelves. This case was just in reach of all the little girls streaming by, begging for attention and encouraging them to buy it. And the girl had been caught in the trap of the doll's baby blue eyes. The utter yearning in the little girl's expression melted Kit's heart.

Subconsciously, she began unzipping her purse and digging for a wallet, before stopping to consider the ramifications. She couldn't just buy the doll for a stranger, could she? But here was her chance to do something good, to make a little child happy, and that wasn't something she could dismiss lightly. Bending down to the girl's level, Kit spoke.

"She's a pretty doll, isn't she?" The girl turned towards her, mouth open in a silent _oh_ of surprise. "I'm Kit. What's your name?" asked Kit.

"Prudence." The young girl swallowed nervously. This pretty stranger had talked to her out of the blue, and to say Prudence was flattered would have been an understatement. _Prudence,_ thought Kit. It had a certain primness and properness to it, and the girl in front of her exhibited both of those things.

"It's a nice name," smiled Kit. "Now, about that doll—would you like it?" Prudence, startled, glanced at the doll before yanking her gaze back towards Kit.

"I…I couldn't," said Prudence, struggling with the words and quashing her yearning with as much self-constraint as she could muster. "It wouldn't be right."

"Nonsense," Kit said, Prudence's denial only furthering Kit's resolution. Kit inspected the price tag—thirty dollars. That wasn't too much of an expense; she wasn't planning on spending much on new clothes, anyways, and how much could school supplies cost? She had a good hundred dollars on hand, after all. Kit waved over a salesperson and gestured to the doll. "I'll have that one, please."

"Great! Come right over to the cash register and I'll print you a receipt," said the salesgirl warmly. Kit followed her to the desk. The girl disappeared into the back room, returning with the doll, and handed it to Kit as Kit paid. "There you go! Enjoy your purchase!" _Well, that was easy,_ thought Kit, turning to hand the doll to Prudence.

"See?" she smiled. "No trouble. It's yours." Prudence's mouth hung open, awestruck. Who was this benevolent angel, who had just descended out of nowhere bringing presents? If someone like this existed, surely Santa Claus did, too.

"Prudence!" a sharp voice called from the opposite end of the shop. Prudence jumped, startled, before looking up at Kit with a questioning gaze.

"Oh, is that your mother?" Kit asked, craning to see around the display. "You'd better go, then. Keep the doll, it's yours!" Prudence nodded, clutching the doll tightly, before darting around the corner and hurrying to whoever had summoned her. _Hm,_ _she doesn't talk much,_ thought Kit. Still, she felt satisfied and even elated at the turn of events. Wouldn't Prudence's mother be so happy when she saw the child's new present? It reminded Kit of when she and her Grandfather used to drive through the neighborhood, giving little presents to children who otherwise wouldn't have received them that Christmas. She'd always gotten a tingly, pleasant feeling afterward. Seeing the young ones' faces light up with joy, and their parents' gratitude, had always made her feel better than receiving any gift of her own.

Content, Kit turned back to study the other items for sale. Her eyes caught sight of an intricate carousel, except with sea creatures. Each seahorse and dolphin was exquisitely detailed and carved, and their eyes shone with gems. It reminded her of home, and Kit sighed.

"Young lady?" a voice jolted her out of her reverie. Kit turned to face a stern-looking woman, with a pinched expression and beady eyes. The lady came up to about Kit's nose, but something told Kit that the woman was a force to be reckoned with. Besides the woman stood Prudence, looking scared.

Sneaking a worried glance towards Prudence, Kit asked the woman, "Could I help you?" The lady gave Prudence a push towards Kit. Cowed, Prudence held up the doll to Kit.

"Here," she muttered, eyes on the floor. Kit gaped.

"But I got that for you!" she protested. "What would I do with such a thing?"

"Return it, perhaps, and keep your money," sniffed the woman, answering the question Kit had intended for Prudence. "We didn't come in here to buy anything." Kit almost asked, _"Then why __**were**__ you here?" _but thought better of it, just in time.

"Ma'am, it's okay. It didn't cost that much, and really, don't you agree that it's a fine-looking doll?" Prudence, unsure after Kit refused to take the doll back, looked to her mother for guidance. The woman stared up at Kit, tight-lipped.

"You may think you were doing me a service, but I was teaching my daughter the concept of delayed gratification," she said scornfully. "I don't suppose you'd understand—you seem the type to get whatever you want whenever you please, but _I'd_ like to raise my daughter with some degree of discipline." Insulted, Kit drew herself up higher.

"Pardon me, ma'am, for interrupting your lesson, but your child seemed so distraught, and it is not in my nature to ignore something like that," she said, priding herself on sounding formal and aloof. The lady's eyes narrowed.

"How _dare_ you insult how I raise my child!" she screeched. "I can obviously see that whoever raised you didn't teach you an ounce of respect!"

"My grandfather was a perfectly respectable person!" Kit said heatedly, before realizing she'd said more than she'd intended. Still, how _dare_ this lady insult _her_ upbringing. Grandfather had taught her everything she knew—to be kind to others, to be charitable, which was obviously much more than this lady seemed to know. Prudence's eyes darted from her mother to Kit, and she tugged on her mother's sleeve hesitantly.

"Please, Mommy, can we just go? I'll take really good care of the doll, I swear I will. I'll never lose her or break her."

"Hush," snapped Prudence's mother, her eyes still trained on Kit. "I will not have you causing a scene in this establishment." Prudence's bottom lip trembled, and she seemed about to cry. Kit wanted to upbraid the woman in front of her for her treatment of her own child, but decided to keep her silence. Prudence's mother continued, "Teenagers, always looking down their noses at adults and thinking they know better." She harrumphed once more before turning on her heel and marching away, stopping only to bark over her shoulder, "Come along now, Prudence." Prudence hurried after her mother, glad that the matter of the doll had been forgotten. Kit watched Prudence go, and as Prudence reached the exit of the shop, she turned back once to gaze at Kit with worshipful eyes.

o.O.o.

"You _didn't!"_ Judith gasped after Kit recounted the earlier episode in the toy store. "And a complete stranger, too! Kit, that's—I can't even think of a word to describe it!"

"I'm starting to regret it," admitted Kit, reaching for a limp French fry. "Judith, do you think I acted too recklessly?" Judith simply snorted.

"It's a bit late to ask that, don't you think?"

"Yeah, but…" Kit trailed off, unsure. "I don't know. I feel really bad."

"If you want to know what I really think, I think it was kind of stupid," Judith said bluntly, sipping on her soft drink. "But it was also really brave." She shrugged. "I guess you can take your pick."

"I guess." Kit's stomach felt queasy. She'd felt so sure when she was standing up to the lady and buying the doll for Prudence, but now… now she felt small and troublesome again. When would she learn to think things through? Judith studied Kit's face before grabbing her book bag and springing out of her chair.

"Oh, stop moping. It's done now. Let's finish shopping!"


	3. Chapter 3: Apprehension

**Chapter 3.**

"We also requested that you be in almost all of Judith's classes," said Aunt Rachel from behind the wheel as she turned to look at Kit, who was crammed in the back of the car beside Judith. Mercy had claimed shotgun and was staring out the window, though she turned to smile reassuringly at Kit.

"Thanks," Kit said, hugging her new backpack closer.

"The principal is Principal Cruff. I've met her in person a few times. She's…quite a woman," said Aunt Rachel. "Anyway, I'd head to her office first thing."

"Alright," acknowledged Kit, watching as they slowly pulled up to the front of the building. It was large, with white columns and the words "Wethersfeld High" printed in giant black letters. Already kids lined the stairs, chatting animatedly and catching up on any news.

"Well, here you all are. Normally Mercy drives Judith and herself to school, but I wanted to see off you three today. Have a good day!" Aunt Rachel waved cheerfully. "I'll be back to pick you up later, but starting tomorrow Mercy will be driving!"

"Okay Mom, we get it—Mercy's driving," said Judith, rolling her eyes. She opened the door. "Come on, Kit."

"Coming." Kit grabbed her things and shut the door, pausing to duck her head back in and say, breathlessly, "Once again, thanks so much for everything, Aunt Rachel."

"No problem. Better not be late!" said Aunt Rachel. Mercy quietly opened her door and gathered her things, swooping in to kiss her mother on the cheek.

"Have a nice day at work," she said, softly. Kit watched them, marveling at how Mercy and Judith could be so different—one polite and quiet, the other brazen and loud.

"Well, we don't have all day," sang Judith, threading an arm through Kit's and the other through Mercy's. "Let's go!" Judith was in awfully good spirits that morning. Kit had to wonder at the change—just a few days ago, Judith had been suspicious of Kit. But heading back to school seemed to brighten Judith's attitude significantly.

They headed through the glass doors, where Judith turned towards Kit.

"Wait right here," she instructed. "I have to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back, and then we can go get your schedule and your locker combination."

"Sure," said Kit, moving to stand by the water fountain and trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible to the people passing by. "I'll wait."

As soon as Judith left for the bathroom, the entrance to the school flew open again and a stern-looking woman walked in, heels clicking on the floor. She moved with purpose, and as she passed, Kit got a good look at her face. Immediately, the air whooshed out of her.

"You?" she squeaked. Her comment drew attention to herself, and soon she faced the woman's steely gaze full on.

The woman was none other than the lady Kit had encountered the other day at the mall, with the same pinched expression and beady eyes. Upon seeing Kit, they narrowed.

_"You,"_ she sneered back. "I hope you behave much better in school than you do in public, miss." With that, she strode away, leaving Kit gaping in her wake. Kit clenched her fists. The _nerve!_ She couldn't believe that anyone could speak to another person that way.

"I see you've met Principal Cruff," an amused voice said. Kit looked around, watching in astonishment as a boy detached himself from where he'd been leaning against the wall throughout the whole encounter. "What'd you do to tick her off?"

Kit studied the boy as he walked towards her. He was lean and muscular, with sandy blonde hair. As he drew closer, she realized that he had bright blue eyes glinting with amusement and curiosity. He was taller than her and carried himself with an easy manner. Kit supposed he was good-looking, but that was hardly one of her priorities at the moment.

"We ran into each other at the mall. I bought a doll for her daughter, and she got mad about it," explained Kit. The boy raised an eyebrow.

"I suppose she's one of those folks who doesn't like having to accept the charity of rich people," he remarked off-handedly, directing a pointed glance towards Kit's expensive sneakers. Kit flushed. So he'd noticed. She hadn't thought it was _that_ obvious that she came from a wealthy background. And who paid attention to someone's shoes, anyways?

"It wasn't charity," she quickly defended herself, raising her chin stubbornly. The boy shrugged.

"Maybe it wasn't. But it probably came across as it."

"You weren't even there!" flamed Kit. She prepared to say something else, but Judith came to the rescue.

"Hey, Kit! I'm done! We can go get our stuff now!" called Judith from down the hall. Kit hurried towards Judith, anxious to talk with someone familiar. It seemed no matter where she went, she kept getting judged by strangers!

Behind her, the boy's eyes followed her retreat.

"I'm Nat, by the way," he called.

Their first class was history. They slid in just before the final bell rang. Already, the teacher was calling roll. He had dark brown hair edged with gray, and his glasses sat perched on his nose as he wrote his name neatly on the blackboard. _Professor Bulkeley._ As Kit organized her belongings on her desk, she came to the sinking realization that in her hurry, she'd left her pencil pouch in her locker.

She turned to the boy sitting next to her, whose head was bent over his open textbook already as he pulled out his spiral and began scribbling down notes, waiting for class to begin.

"Excuse me, but do you have a pencil I could borrow?"

The boy's head snapped up. He had gray eyes with a faraway look to them, as if his mind was somewhere else, but they focused on her. Kit found herself reminded of Mercy's clear gray eyes—discerning and disorienting, but kind.

"Sure," he said, fishing out a mechanical pencil and handing it over. "New student?"

"How can you tell?" asked Kit, taken aback. The boy shrugged.

"I was new, once. Last year, actually. I transferred from private school. I'm John Holbrook," he introduced, extending a hand in welcome. She shook it, scrutinizing his brown hair that fell slightly over his high forehead. He didn't look the studious type, but that only served to show how wrong first impressions could be.

"I'm Kit," she said. "I moved here from Florida."

"That's a far cry from Connecticut, I'll bet," said John. "Any particular reason why?"

"My grandfather died. I'm staying with my cousins," said Kit, taking sudden interest in the margins of her spiral. "It's been…different, but I'm getting used to it."

"I'm sorry about that." John eyed her sympathetically. "I think you'll get along well here. The teachers are great. Professor Bulkeley's brilliant—he knows a bit of everything. I had him for theology last year."

"You're into religion?" Kit asked, curiosity piqued.

John shrugged. "It interests me. I want…" he paused, then leaned forward as if imparting some huge secret. "What I want is to go to Harvard, and I heard Dr. Bulkeley got his PhD there as a research professor."

"That's interesting," commented Kit, shifting in her seat. Honestly, she'd never considered where she wanted to go for college—she'd kind of expected Grandfather to offer advice on where to go and just take him at his word, but with Grandfather gone… Kit's throat clogged.

Up on his podium, Dr. Bulkeley cleared his throat and began the lecture: "In 1584, Queen Elizabeth granted a charter…."

o.O.o.

"History class was an awful bore, wasn't it?" asked Judith conversationally as they headed down the hallways, surrounded by the sounds of lockers slamming on all sides.

"I thought it was interesting," said Kit.

Judith laughed—a merry, loud sound—and flashed a brilliant smile. "Well, whatever makes you happy, I suppose." She slowed down as they turned a corner. "Oh, look, here come the football players."

The crowd seemed to part before the group of five boys who made their way down the hall, engaged in a boisterous conversation. Kit and Judith pulled off to the side to avoid being trampled, but just as Kit skittered out of the way, her bag clipped one of the boys' elbows. As the boy swung around, he knocked into the bag again, this time spilling its contents all over the floor.

"Oh," said Judith, staring at the mess. Kit was already on the ground, scrambling to recover all her papers.

A larger body bent beside her and gathered up some papers. Kit looked up in surprise and found large brown eyes staring at her. The boy, realizing that he'd been caught, handed Kit's papers to her wordlessly.

"Um…thanks." Kit accepted the gesture kindly and even managed a timid smile.

"Hey, man, you coming or what?" someone shouted from further down the hall, and the brown-eyed boy stirred slowly, as if awaking from some strange slumber.

"Yeah, I'm coming." He got to his feet, and Kit immediately felt small. The boy towered over her. He wasn't just tall—he had wide, broad shoulders, and he stood there for a moment longer looking at Kit.

"Um, once again, thanks for everything," said Kit, backing away slowly. She grabbed her book bag and slung it over her shoulder before seeking out Judith, who was also rooted firmly in the position Kit had last saw her in. Goodness, was everyone frozen today? "Judith, come on, we've got to get to class," urged Kit.

Judith recovered quickly and grabbed Kit's arm. They hurried down the hall, but even then Kit could feel the boy's gaze burying itself in her back.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yay! More characters. Judith is actually turning out to be a blast to write...and I can't wait until I get started on the whole Nat/Kit dynamic. But that's for a later chapter, teehee! :P Let me know what you liked/disliked/thought! Leave a review! :)**


	4. Chapter 4: Belligerence

**Chapter 4.**

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><p>"Kit!" Mercy's voice cut a swath through the chatter of everyone else in the cafeteria room. Kit located her cousin with relieved eyes. She'd been standing in the center of the cafeteria looking lost for the past five minutes.<p>

"So, how was your day?" inquired Mercy once Kit had settled in comfortably.

"Fine," Kit said, digging into her pasta ravenously. "Classes were good."

"What about you, Mercy?" Judith asked, downing a gulp of water. Mercy smiled.

"My teachers are fantastic," she said.

"Well, that makes one of us," grumbled Judith, before setting her cup down. "Oh, he's cute."

Kit turned around, seeking out the object of Judith's attention. Instead, she saw John. "John!" she called, giving him a friendly wave. John balanced his tray in one arm and waved back in acknowledgement before turning to find a seat with some of his friends.

"You know him?" Judith asked skeptically.

Kit looked taken aback. "You think _John_ is cute?"

Judith forked a bit of salad into her mouth before answering. "Cute enough. How do you know him?"

Kit stared at Judith in amazement. "Judith, he's in our history class."

"Well, fancy that," said Judith. "I'll have to strike up a conversation with him sometime. Does he play any sports?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," admitted Kit. "I don't think so, though."

Judith sighed. "That's a shame. I'm more into the football player type."

"Like William," said Mercy, rolling her eyes, but with an affectionate smile.

"Like William," Judith agreed. "Although…" she trailed off.

Kit looked from sister to sister, utterly confused. "Who's William?" she wondered.

"The boy who ran into you earlier today," answered Judith. Kit thought she sensed a tinge of disappointment in Judith's voice. "He took an awfully long time to pick your things up."

Kit stared at her food, but couldn't help the blush that rose to her cheeks. "It was nothing. He was probably just startled, that's all."

Mercy watched their exchange quietly. When she spoke, her voice was prodding but gentle. "Kit, have you met a boy?"

"I…no, of course not!" stammered Kit, marveling at how the word "boy" took on so many more implications when Mercy said it like that. "I just…we ran into each other in the hallway and he helped me pick up my things."

"You should be grateful," chimed in Judith. "William's family is loaded. They've got the best house in town and _everyone_—or, well, almost everyone," said Judith, revising her statement, "knows that he's the most eligible bachelor in Wethersfeld High. Senior and captain of the football team. We had an on-again, off-again thing last year," Judith added, and Kit had a feeling the statement had been thrown in on purpose.

Her mind, however, chose to ask a different question. "Doesn't he go by Will?"

"What?" Judith looked surprised, wondering if Kit had listened to anything that she'd just said.

"William," Kit repeated. "Doesn't he go by Will?"

"Oh, no, so don't go around calling him that," said Judith. "He's very proper and insists on being called by his full name. None of that silly name-shortening. He's _sophisticated."_ Judith said it with an air of reverence. Kit fought to roll her eyes.

"He seems like a pleasant enough guy," she offered instead.

Judith shrugged. "I don't see what he saw in you to be speechless about—no offense. You aren't a stunner or anything, but it's probably because you're new. Everybody likes new blood, and I guess you have that slight sun-kissed thing from Florida going on," she remarked. Kit studied her skin. Granted, compared to Judith and Mercy she was a bit tan, but it was hardly much of a difference. Still, after knowing Judith's tendencies, Kit knew that Judith's offhand remarks were hardly things to get affronted about. Still, she wanted to change the subject, and she opened her mouth to do just that. However, Judith was still speaking. "You know what it is? I think that rich people have this thing where they just _know_ when there's another person like them around and they get attracted to that person like a magnet. I mean, think about it. It would explain why all the popular kids here at school are filthy rich and band together, too. It makes sense. And it would explain why William took an interest in _you._ He must have, like, smelled the money on you or something."

"Judith…" There was a touch of exasperation and amusement in Mercy's voice. "Don't you think you're being rather harsh on Kit?"

"Well," sniffed Judith. "It was a valid explanation." She finished up the last of her food and lifted her tray before finally making eye contact with Kit. "Come on, we've got to head back to class."

o.O.o.

"So, how was your day?" Aunt Rachel asked eagerly over dinner that night. Dinner was casserole, and it was delicious. Kit wiped her mouth with her napkin before speaking.

"It was good," she said, simply.

From across the table, Judith spoke up. "Kit met a boy today."

There was a derisive snort from Uncle Matthew's position at the head of the table, but other than that he was too busy reading the paper to take much notice of their conversation. Aunt Rachel, however, was delighted.

"A boy!" she said. "Do tell, Kit."

Kit wanted to bury her face in her hands. _Why_ did Judith have to keep bringing up William? It was an awfully funny way of displaying jealousy—because, by now, Kit had figured that was what Judith was—insanely jealous.

"I…" she grasped for words that wouldn't come. "It was nothing, really, just a run-in in the hallways."

"She met William Ashby." And there Judith went, again with the name-dropping. "He helped her pick up her things and then stood there for five minutes staring at her."

"Judith!" scolded Mercy, but, like everything Mercy did, it was a soft kind of reproaching tone; nothing that Judith took heed of.

"William Ashby…" Aunt Rachel fumbled with the name. "Isn't that…?" she looked questioningly at Judith, unsure whether to voice her thoughts.

"Oh, yes, it's the same one I'm always going on about," said Judith, waving her hand. "But Kit can have him. In fact, I've set my sights on someone else—and I bet he's ten times smarter than William."

Both Mercy and Kit gaped at Judith.

"But…what? Who?"

"John Holbrook," said Judith dreamily, resting her elbows on the table as she faced her mother. "Really, Mom, he's got the greatest eyes—"

"Good Lord, all this and only the first day back," exhaled Uncle Matthew, tossing his paper down on the table. "I'm off to _work_, away from all this petty gossip." They watched him go. After a beat, Aunt Rachel spoke up.

"Have you and Mercy told Kit yet?"

"Told me what?" Kit asked, confused.

Aunt Rachel shot Judith a stern glance, to which Judith shrugged sheepishly. "There's a little restaurant where Judith works. The owner is hiring, and we figured you could get a job there. He's a personal friend of ours, you see, and he has no problem taking you on. You'll probably be waitressing or taking orders—nothing you can't manage, I'm sure. Mercy has agreed to drive you and Judith down there tomorrow so he can interview you really quickly and get everything together for you, and then you'll start work."

"Oh. Okay." Faced with the deluge of information, Kit wasn't quite sure how to respond. "What about Mercy? Where does she work?"

Mercy smiled faintly. "I work down at the library and run programs for the younger kids sometimes," she answered.

"Ugh, kids." Judith wrinkled a nose. "You'll have a lot more fun with me, Kit. Waitressing is more fun, plus you get tips."

"Well, you girls have more school tomorrow, so don't be up too late," reminded Aunt Rachel, pushing out of her chair. She gathered up her plate and made her way to the kitchen.

"Goodness, we have homework already, don't we?" said Kit, staring at the tablecloth. She honestly didn't want to get up and do anything—dinner had been so satisfying, and she wanted to sit around talking for a little longer.

"Better get started now, or you'll never get it done," advised Mercy, picking up her own plate and heading to the kitchen. Kit sighed.

"Oh, all right."

o.O.o.

"Skio's Short Stop," read Kit doubtfully, looking at the neon sign over the diner.

Judith bundled her hair into a bun and rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. Look excited, Kit."

"I am," said Kit. "I just…what sort of food does this place sell, anyway?"

Ten minutes later, she got her answer. After filling out a brief questionnaire (any previous work experience? No. Have you ever been charged of a misdemeanor? No. Age? 16), Mr. Skio had disappeared into the back storage room, reemerging later with a half-apron.

"This pocket is for your notepad, and this pocket can hold pens and napkins and whatever else you need," said Mr. Skio, holding up the apron at eye-level. It was a plain black with a triple "S" monogrammed in the corner. Kit took it and tied it off around her waist.

"You'll be running the cash register for now," instructed Mr. Skio, "But as business picks up later tonight I might have you switch over to waitressing. The register is really simple. You type in the number of whatever item they ordered—so, say they got a cheeseburger—that'd be number six, see? Then you press enter and go on to the next item. Once they're finished ordering, you press enter twice and it'll tally everything up for you and you can print the receipt.

"Now, some people might not want to order-up. We have a menu, too, where we serve the more homey dishes that you sit down and eat: pasta, salad, fish, all that good stuff. So if a customer comes in and doesn't come up to the register, if he just finds himself a table and seats himself there, then the waiters and waitresses will pick him up. They'll know what to do. So, recap: Register, they're ordering a quickie, table means they're planning on some fine dining." Mr. Skio finished his talk with a _whoosh_ of air, and Kit found herself wondering if he'd taken a breath once in the course of his spiel.

"Sounds simple enough," she said, taking her place behind the register and brushing some hair out of her face.

Mr. Skio patted her on the back. "Atta girl."

It was only after she'd been at the register for a while that Kit got the time to fully examine the menu. It offered a strange assortment of items, encompassing everything from fish and fries to steak. Kit had to wonder if Mr. Skio kept all the dishes because they were truly popular or because they held some sentimental value.

_Ding._ Kit looked up as the bell chimed, signaling another customer. Her eyes widened as she recognized Nat, who seemed just as surprised to see her. He made his way to the counter.

"You work here?" he asked, skeptically. "I thought you were rich." Kit flushed at his comment. She hated how he kept making assumptions about her when this was only their second time speaking, but managed to ask, with the barest amount of civility, "Look, are you going to order or not?"

Nat raised an eyebrow, as if to further establish that he'd won the round, before tilting his head back to regard the menu. Kit's brow furrowed in annoyance, and she took out her frustration on the cash register, punching in numbers with a steady series of jabs.

"I'll have a Mushroom Swiss sandwich, but without the cheese," decided Nat.

"You might as well have just ordered a mushroom sandwich," grumbled Kit. "What's the point of it being a 'Mushroom Swiss' without the Swiss?"

"Don't they have a company policy or something that says you can't give your customers attitude?" inquired Nat, looking like he enjoyed tormenting her. Kit grit her teeth, but was unable to stop her retort from slipping out: "If you don't watch out, I won't be giving you your sandwich, either."

Nat laughed, the sound ringing loudly through the sleepy restaurant. When he looked at her again, Kit saw a new expression in his eyes—one of amusement, even acceptance. She'd proven to Nat that she could hold her own in their verbal banter. The knowledge warmed her, but she fought to preserve her air of nonchalance. "Anything to drink?"

"Water's fine," said Nat, pulling out his money and paying her. Kit handed him his receipt, then pointed to a table.

"Go ahead and find a seat; your food will be out shortly."

"Yes ma'am," said Nat mildly, flashing her a smile. He really was a strange guy; annoying one moment, polite the next. Kit filed it away in the back of her mind, making a mental note to ask Judith about Nat later. He was probably a junior, just like she and Judith were, but so far Kit hadn't seen him in any of her classes.

When Nat's order arrived, he took it and settled into a small table tucked in the corner, near one of the windows. A short while later, Kit was relieved of her register duty.

"Kit!" came the call from one of the backrooms, "you're taking orders, now!"

Kit accepted her job readily. It was a relief to move out of the cramped confines of the space behind the counter.

As time wore on, and as Kit moved to and fro taking orders, she noticed that one man left his plate untouched. Eventually, he called her over to pay. Upon seeing his almost-full plate, Kit asked, "Would you like me to pack that up for you?"

"This?" The man looked at his food, as if noticing it for the first time. "Oh, no."

"Was there something wrong with it? I can talk to the manager—we'll be happy to provide you with a different meal," Kit said, attempting to figure out the reason for the man's meager appetite.

"Oh, no, it was wonderful," said the man. "I just don't want it, that's all."

"What about your wife or kids?" prodded Kit. "Surely they'll want some."

"I don't want to take it home," repeated the man, this time with a bit more force behind his voice. Sensing her blunder, Kit hurried to remedy the mistake.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume—"

"But you are assuming, aren't you?" interjected the man. "Now if you'll just let me pay, I'll be gone."

Kit stared at the plate of food. Maybe, had the man not interrupted, she would have been content to leave the subject be. However, his interruption had stirred something inside her, and the sight of the untouched food stirred her even more. _What a waste,_ thought Kit. There were so many other mouths that plate could feed, but that man had picked at it, so it could hardly be given out to someone else. Still, it seemed a terrible injustice that the man wasn't willing to take the food with him and make use of it, to feed either himself or his family. You didn't just waste food like that, not when there were so many other hungry people in the world, and before Kit could censor her thoughts she blurted, "If I could offer my opinion: I think you're wasting perfectly good food. Is it really that much trouble to pack it up and take it with you?"

The man gaped at her, insulted by her insolence. "I never asked you for your opinion," he said, surly. "I'm willing to pay the money—stop pestering me about wasting the food. Who do you think you are, some saint?"

"I…" Kit drew herself up, incensed. "I don't appreciate that comment, sir."

"Well, I don't appreciate your comments, either," retorted the customer. "You're a waitress—you're hired to take my order and maybe suggest a dish here and there—not that anyone follows waiters' suggestions, anyhow—but you aren't here to give me your opinion on what I do or what I buy. I have a wife for that."

By now, their heated argument had attracted the stares of the other diners. Kit could hear Judith's sharp intake of breath. Mr. Skio had probably heard the commotion, too, and would be out in any moment. With a sinking feeling of regret, Kit realized that, once again, she'd let her temper get the best of her. Great. She'd probably end up fired, and only after one day on the job.

"Kit, come here, please." Sure enough, Mr. Skio had witnessed the event unfolding and summoned Kit to the back room. Kit shoved her notebook back in her pocket and made her way to where Mr. Skio stood, forcing herself to hold her head high. She resisted the urge to look back at the man. However, for reasons unbeknownst to her, Kit couldn't help her gaze from flicking over to where she had last seen Nat, seated beside the window. He wasn't there. Kit felt relieved—the last thing she wanted was for him to make a comment.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Whew, that was a lot (for me, at least XD). It's summer break for me, so hopefully I'll get more frequent with this! Chapter five and six should be up soon (just minor edits/making sure it flows). In the meantime, PLEASE let me know what you think! :)**


	5. Chapter 5: Introductions

**Chapter 5.**

* * *

><p>"You're lucky he let you off easy, you know," said Judith the next day as Kit stood at her locker, gathering her things before morning classes started.<p>

Kit sighed and tucked some hair behind her ear. "I know, I know. I'm sorry, I just…that man was pushing it."

Judith rolled her eyes. "Goodness, it's like you've never been in the outside world before. People are going to tick you off all the time, Kit. You've got to lay low and shrug it off."

"But _why?"_ asked Kit, shutting her locker and facing Judith. "Why do we put up with certain things when we know we could do better? When we know they're wrong?"

Judith stared at Kit before opening her bag and scrounging around for some Tic-Tacs, which she popped into her mouth. "Whatever. You're getting way too philosophical about it."

"Well, if isn't Kit Tyler." The voice wafted from down the hall, and soon Nat's wiry frame was in view.

Judith looked at him skeptically. "If it isn't Nathaniel Eaton. Haven't seen you around lately."

Nat flashed a crooked grin. "Same to you, Judith."

Kit, meanwhile, was dumbfounded. _This_ was the very same son Mr. Eaton had been talking about during that car ride all those days ago. To think that easygoing Nat was related to stiff, down-to-business Mr. Eaton was mind-boggling.

"How do you know my name?" Kit asked instead.

Nat turned his grin towards her and nodded his head in acknowledgement. "I make it my business to know things. And I felt bad for not getting it last night."

From behind Nat, Judith snorted. "Well, you two can catch up on whatever chitchat you'd like, but I'm going to get to class early." She waved over Nat's shoulder at Kit. "Mind the time."

"I'll get her to class on time," Nat reassured Judith over his shoulder. Kit watched Judith go before looking at Nat.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

Nat raised an eyebrow. "I just wanted to say that I thought it was very noble of you to stand up to that man the other day."

So he _had_ seen the whole thing, thought Kit. Her spirits sunk. She was in for it now. Struggling to keep her tone light, she mumbled, "I can't say my boss was as appreciative of it."

Nat's eyes were sparkling with mirth when Kit looked at him again. "You can't please everyone," he said.

There was a brief silence between them before Nat added, "You should come by where I work sometime. I think you'd like it a lot better."

Kit eyed him skeptically. "What makes you so sure?"

Nat shrugged. "You just don't seem like the type who likes to take orders from other people." Before Kit could reply, Nat had produced a sheet of paper, seemingly out of nowhere, and scrawled an address into it before pressing it into her hand before she could refuse. "I'm there Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays," he told her, grinning crookedly. "Now you'd better get to class."

He brushed past her, head held high as he headed to his next destination. Kit shoved the piece of paper into her pocket without sparing a single glance at it. She watched Nat go.

He didn't look back once.

o.O.o.

Just as Nat had promised, Kit got to history class on time. By the end of class, her head was spinning with names and dates and her hand cramped from taking notes.

To top it all off, in English, their teacher, an aging man by the name of Eleazer Kimberly, assigned an essay to be due on Monday. "That leaves today, Thursday, Friday, and the whole weekend to work on it. That said, I expect high-quality essays from all of you," he proclaimed.

Kit groaned.

At the end of the day, Kit found another guest waiting at her locker. Judith, upon seeing William Ashby standing awkwardly by Kit's locker, quickly pulled Kit off to the side.

"Oh, this ought to be interesting," she commented. "I'm going to stand here, out of the way, but I want details!" She wiggled her fingers at Kit before pushing Kit back out into the open. Sighing, Kit straightened and walked purposefully over to her locker.

She twisted the dial, waiting for William to speak. Eventually, he did. "Hey."

"Hi," replied Kit, setting her bag at her feet.

They stood in silence regarding each other before William said, "I heard you're from Florida."

"Yeah." Kit swallowed, her tongue thick in her mouth. With their conversation progressing so slowly, there weren't going to be many details to report to Judith. Then again, Kit wondered what kind of conversation she'd been expecting in the first place.

"Kit Tyler, right?" William attempted weakly.

"Yeah."

"I'm William Ashby."

"It's nice to meet you." That was genuine—it _was_ a pleasure to meet someone new, and Kit couldn't deny that she felt flattered at being approached.

"See, I was thinking, since you're new and all, maybe I could show you around town some time. Like this weekend." William picked up confidence as he continued to speak, and Kit found herself nodding along without much thought. Eventually, though, she realized that William was looking at her with expectant eyes.

"What? Oh, yes, that'd be great!" she said, flashing him a brilliant smile. He smiled back, and whatever tentative awkwardness he had exhibited before was gone in a flash. He still remained quiet, however. Kit felt like she was missing something, but she didn't know what.

After a while, William spoke again. "I'll need your phone number."

"Oh!" Kit spun around and reached in her bag for a pen and paper. She scrawled her number on it before handing it to William, who inspected it before slipping it in his pocket.

"Right. And here's mine." He waited patiently for Kit to pull out her phone before he read off the number sequence in a slow, deliberate voice. Once he finished, he and Kit stood standing awkwardly before William coughed. "Well, I should go. I'll call you with details later, I guess. Er…bye." He ducked his head awkwardly and walked away. Kit stared down at her phone, where a new contact had been added, before turning off the screen and shoving her phone back into her pocket. That had certainly been an awkward exchange.

On the way out the doors, Judith all but tackled Kit. "Oh my god. He gave you his number, didn't he? Kit, do you know what this _means?"_

"He wants to be friends?" Kit guessed half-heartedly, too preoccupied with trying to get the zipper of her bag working so she could cram the last of her papers in.

Judith exhaled loudly and threw her hands up in the air, pleading to the sky, "Lord, help me."

"What?" Kit asked sharply, now paying attention. "He just wanted to show me around town."

"Please, Kit, don't be dense," said Judith. "That's guy speak for 'let's go on a date.'"

Kit froze. "A date?" she balked. "So soon? He…he doesn't even know me!"

"Relax, Kit!" laughed Judith, grabbing her by the arm and steering her towards the car, where Mercy sat, waiting. "He's not expecting you to declare your undying love for him or anything. It's just one of those get-to-know-you things. You should be flattered. It's, like, social suicide _not_ to agree to go on a date with William Ashby."

"What's this I hear about a date?" Mercy asked, adjusting the windshield mirror so she could see as Kit situated herself in the back of the car.

"It's nothing," grumbled Kit. She loosened up a bit at the look of gentle amusement that flitted over Mercy's face. "Or maybe it is. William Ashby wants to show me around town this weekend."

"That's perfect!" gushed Mercy. "After you're done with your little date, Judith can pick you up and you can come visit me at the library! I'm working there all this weekend running a bunch of little workshops for the little ones and it'd be wonderful to have you."

Kit consented. "Oh, fine. But first I have an English essay to write."


	6. Chapter 6: Impressions

**Chapter 6.**

* * *

><p>"You're not going to go out wearing that, are you?" asked Judith from the doorway. Kit looked down at her shirt and shorts.<p>

"I think I look presentable enough," she answered evenly.

"Good heavens, Kit," complained Judith. "Do you know the first thing about dressing to impress?"

As a matter of fact, it had crossed Kit's mind to wear something fancier for her "date" with William—but she was afraid doing so would draw another blustery comment from Uncle Matthew about what her real values should be and how "girls and people in general these days shouldn't put so much into appearances." So she'd settled for casual, but it turned out that had been a mistake.

Meanwhile, Judith had crossed the room and began rummaging through Kit's belongings.

A thought occurred to Kit, and she cleared her throat. "Judith…why are you doing this?"

Judith paused to arch an eyebrow. "Why not? I love fashion."

"No," corrected Kit, impatiently, "I mean, why are you being so nice about this whole thing? I thought, well…I thought you'd be jealous."

Judith sighed and came to sit beside Kit, on the aerobed. "I am, a bit," she admitted. "Because, well, last year, when I was semi-dating William, I had this silly idea that it would be forever, you know?" Judith laughed. "But he's a football player—he's got his social status to worry about."

"But you're popular," Kit said, confused.

"Not quite as much as the people in William's circle," said Judith. She shrugged. "But it's okay. Dad never approved anyway; he said that dating someone just because he was popular was stupid. But it wasn't _just_ that. I mean, William's…he's better, when you get to know him. Anyhow, that's all in the past. I've moved on. There's something different about John—you can just tell he's the scholarly, thoughtful type, and I think that's just the type for me. What do you think?" Judith's eyes were bright.

Kit opened and closed her mouth, mystified at the leap in the subject of the conversation. "I…uh…yeah," she agreed, speechless for one of the few times in her life.

Judith beamed and patted Kit's hand. "Well, hurry up and get dressed now," she said, depositing a sundress in Kit's lap before skipping out of the room. "Mercy still has to go to work, you know."

o.O.o

Kit sloshed the straw around in her strawberry smoothie for the fifth time. Across the booth from her sat William, his basket of fries to the side. A few limp ones remained at the bottom, spattered with ketchup, but William wasn't focused on his food. He sat stiffly in the booth, arms crossed, watching Kit play with her drink.

Embarrassed and awkward, but with no idea of what to say, Kit took a hesitant sip. Their conversation had petered out ages ago, and Kit was too tired to think up another question that would inevitably lead to a dead end.

When she looked up, William was still staring. Kit reached for a napkin, afraid she had something on her face, but the napkin came away clean. Oh, confound it all.

"So…do you come here often?" she asked William.

William shifted. "More or less. Mostly after games," he answered.

"Do you play a lot? Football, I mean."

William looked at her, confused. "Well, yeah. I'm on the football team."

"Yeah, I know. I meant…how often do you have games?" Kit floundered. This conversation was awful. She didn't know what Judith had meant when she'd said that William was better once you got to know him. At the rate their conversation was going, it was going to take years to get to know William well enough to have a decent, interesting conversation. He didn't seem this silent around his friends. Maybe he had yet to warm up to her. Kit took a breath and reminded herself to give William a chance. After all, people weren't what they seemed, and she couldn't pass any judgement after just one date.

Their one date ended soon enough, with William paying the bill and escorting her outside to the curb, where Judith pulled up. She'd leapt at the chance to drive; normally Mercy or Aunt Rachel ferried them around, but they had dropped off Mercy at the library earlier that day. Kit thanked William for the nice lunch.

"Anytime," said William. "Maybe you'd like to go out next weekend, too? We could do it around the same time, if it's convenient."

Kit's eyes darted from side to side. She felt like a deer caught in the headlights. "I…um…I'll think about it, okay?" she stammered.

William nodded, expressionless. "Let me know whenever."

"Okay." Kit fumbled to open the door and hopped in, waving briefly as they pulled away before sinking into the seats.

As they drove onto the highway, Judith gave her a sidelong glance. "Well? How was it?"

"Awful," groaned Kit. "And he hinted that maybe we should do it again."

"He asked you out again?" Surprise was evident in Judith's voice.

"Yeah," mumbled Kit. "But I don't know if I want to."

"Oh, come on," huffed Judith. "Live a little. Besides, the more you hang out with him, the more likely it is he'll ask you to homecoming."

Kit looked at Judith, confused. "Homecoming?"

"Yeah, you know—big football game and then the homecoming dance at the end of the week?" Judith said, critical. When Kit still didn't show any signs of impression, Judith explained, "It's a big deal."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"But Judith…I don't even want to go to a dance with William. I can't even hold a conversation with him for more than five minutes!"

Judith rolled her eyes. "Who cares? It's not like he has 'brainiac' written all over him. Do you know how much most girls would give to be in your position right now? You have no clue how lucky you are."

Kit was silent for the rest of the ride. Judith was right. She didn't have a clue.

o.O.o

The public library was huge, with glassy windows that caught the sunlight. The librarians greeted them warmly as the walked in. Through the hush of the library, Kit could hear Mercy's gentle, lilting voice. She closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of the books surrounding her. It reminded her of Sunday mornings curled up on the chaise in her grandfather's library, light filtering in through the high stained-glass window. An arrow of sorrow shot through her chest.

They found Mercy bent over a younger child, guiding his hands as he tried to make a picture using glitter glue. "Don't squeeze it so hard," coaxed Mercy, before leaving him to his own devices as she darted around the table to assist a pigtailed little girl.

Kit moved along the tables, lighting up as she walked by the children. "What have you got there?" she asked one.

He stared up at her before saying, "It's a bumblebee."

"Nice," Kit grinned. "That's a wicked looking stinger, too."

The boy nodded, proud. "Yup."

After a while, Kit remembered something. Turning to Mercy, she asked, "Is there somewhere where I could print my essay really quickly?"

"The printer's right upstairs," guided Mercy, "over by the computers. You can't miss it."

"Thanks." Kit fished her flash drive out of her purse and headed upstairs, trailing her hands along book spines as she went.

Upstairs, she inserted her flash drive in the printer and listened as the machine beeped, happily shooting out the glossy pages of her English essay. Kit thrummed her fingers on the machine's surface as she waited, humming to herself. Out of nowhere, a hand grabbed her arm.

"Goodness!" yelped Kit, startled. She spun to find Judith clutching her arm, an excited expression on her face.

"Kit, come back downstairs," Judith urged.

"In just a minute," huffed Kit, turning back to the printer. "I just need this to finish printing."

Judith waved her hand. "You can come back for it later! I want you to come down with me. _John's _here."

Kit paused, confused. "You don't mean…John Holbrook?"

Judith rolled her eyes. "Who else? Now come down and say hello so I don't seem too eager."

Kit snorted, but obliged.

Downstairs, John had pulled out a chair and cleared his throat. Kit and Judith arrived in time to hear Mercy finishing a sentence: "…didn't know you worked here."

John lifted his hand and waved at Judith and Kit before replying, "I just started, actually. I'm here to read the kids a story." He pointed to the picture book in his hand.

Mercy looked surprised, but after a beat she nodded. "That works perfectly, then—you can take over while I clean up this mess in the background." She ushered the kids over, directing them to sit in a circle at John's feet. "This is John—he's going to read you all a story, so listen quietly, okay?"

They nodded, bringing their artwork along with them.

"Come on," beckoned Judith, settling into an armchair. "We can listen, too."

"Oh, why not," consented Kit, clearing out her own space at the foot of the chair, below Judith. She watched as John cleared his throat and cracked the book open, turning it in a slow arc to ensure all the children saw the pictures.

Kit had been prepared to zone out, but as John's voice swelled it brought to life the fanciful creatures swirling on the pages. Each word fell from his lips crisply, marching brightly along. His voice was low, but clear—both soothing and varying, lilting but never to the point of putting her to sleep. The children leaned forwards, enraptured—and Judith too, and Kit, and Mercy had halted reorganizing the art supplies in favor of listening as well.

And then it was over. Kit blinked when she noticed that John's voice had dropped off. A chorus of small voices clamored, "More, more! Read us another one!"

John ducked his head and smiled good-humoredly. "That's for next week," he winked. "I have to do other things now." He put his chair back in its proper place before strolling away.

After John had left, Mercy handed a basket to Kit and another one to Judith. "Would you mind helping me carry these?" she requested, leading the way. To the children, she instructed, "Your parents are going to be here shortly, so you guys can look at books here or go wait by the librarians' desk."

Judith flounced happily alongside Kit as they went to shelve the supplies. "I think I'm in love," she sighed dreamily.

Mercy caught Kit's eye over her shoulder, and the two of them rolled their eyes. "That's nice, Judith," said Mercy, her hair falling in her face as she bent over to push the baskets into the bottom shelf. "Now what do you say we go home and relax?"

"Can I drive?" beseeched Judith, blinking up at Mercy.

Amused, Mercy nodded. "I don't see why not."

"All right then, what are we waiting for? Let's go home!" declared Judith. Kit grabbed her purse on the way out, and the three of them walked outside to the parking lot, chattering animatedly. Judith, in her bright mood, looped one arm through Kit's and the other through Mercy's. Walking in tandem with them, laughing under the bright sunshine, a part of Kit finally felt at home.

On the second floor of the library, a window popped up: _Print job complete._


	7. Chapter 7: Hannah

**A/N: **Merry Christmas and happy holidays! :)

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><p><strong>Chapter 7.<strong>

* * *

><p>On Monday morning, Kit was greeted by an unexpected, "Hi," from William, and a brief smile. He was surprisingly charming when he smiled like that, Kit thought, and immediately forgave him for their lackluster first date. After all, who could tell after the first one? Judith had said he was a good guy once you got to know him, and Kit figured a second date couldn't hurt the chances of that happening.<p>

In English class, Mr. Kimberly moved down the aisles collecting essays. Kit reached into her bookbag, freezing when her hands encountered nothing but loose worksheets.

Everything narrowed down into a single point. Kit continued rummaging through her bag frantically, mind racing. _It has to be here. I did it, I know I did, I printed it and everything…_ Her thoughts flashed to her flash drive. _The library._

"Miss Tyler?" Mr. Kimberly was looking at her expectantly, a hand outstretched.

A hot flush of embarrassment crawled over Kit, covering her from her forehead down to her neck. She could feel how red she'd turned and stammered, "I…I must have left it at home." Silently, she hoped that one of the librarians had thought to keep her flash drive safe—she'd have to ask Mercy to drive her there to check after school, and the thought humiliated her even further.

"It's only the second week of school, and this is your first major assignment. I can accept it tomorrow, but the highest you'll be able to receive is a B-plus," Mr. Kimberly said, not unkindly. Kit nodded numbly, but she could hear the titters of disapproval and amusement from the other students in the room.

"…irresponsible…"

"…heard she's never attended public school in her life!"

"…what did you expect?"

"…typical…"

"…pampered rich girl…"

Mr. Kimberly moved on. The incident was quickly forgotten, everyone's attention returned to the class work at hand. But by lunchtime, Kit wanted nothing more than to be free. She ducked out of the cafeteria—she'd explain to Mercy and Judith later—and wandered down the halls. The sound of voices turning the corner prompted her to disappear into the bathrooms.

In the stall, staring down at her bright white shoes, which were starting to become scuffed and speckled with dirt, Kit felt a lump rise in her throat. What was she doing here, hiding in a bathroom stall? This wasn't the kind of person her grandfather had raised her to be. The old Kit would be walking around with her head held high, paying little attention to what others said.

But Kit didn't feel anything like her old self; she felt out of place, clumsy and awkward, with a propensity for getting into trouble and managing to embarrass herself in the most mundane situations. It wasn't even the fact that she'd missed an assignment that bothered her—it was the whispers, the helplessness as others shook their heads or clucked their tongues. The condescending amusement or polite but pitying smiles. Above it all, she missed home, the quiet company of her grandfather. The smell of chamomile tea, the palm trees and stretch of beach she could see from her window, little things that made her heart ache.

Kit sniffled. More tears seemed to flow after that, surrounding her in a gloomy fog.

The sound of running water brought her back to her senses. Someone else had entered the bathroom. Kit held her breath, unsure what to do.

"It's okay to come out, dear. I suspect it's awfully cramped in there," the voice said gently. Kit raised her head from where she'd leaned it against the cool surface of the bathroom door, wiping at her eyes with the heels of her hands. Her skin felt salty and dried out. She cracked open the door hesitantly.

In front of her stood an old woman—she barely came up to Kit's shoulder. Her white hair was short, chin-length, and she peered over the rim of her glasses with gray eyes. As Kit emerged into the bathroom light, the woman's wrinkled face creased into a smile.

"There, now. I've been in your shoes before, and bathrooms seem to be the favorite retreat of many, but why don't you come with me? We'll get you seated somewhere more comfortable, and then you can tell me all about what's bothered you so."

It occurred to Kit that she'd never seen this woman before. She opened her mouth to speak, but the woman had already pressed a packet of tissues into her hand and turned on her heels, heading out the bathroom door. Kit had no choice but to follow the wizened old figure, who moved astonishingly quickly for her age. It was still lunchtime, surprisingly, and the halls were mostly empty as Kit and the old woman walked. Finally, they came to a door. The woman pushed through confidently. Kit managed to glance at the bronze plaque and catch the words "counselor" before she scurried into the room to avoid getting hit by the door.

Inside was a simple desk and a small refrigerator tucked in one corner. The woman opened it now, pulling out a small carton of milk that she set in front of Kit. She also produced a blueberry muffin, seemingly out of nowhere. Bewildered, Kit pulled a chair forward. The old woman sank into her own armchair.

"Eat," she encouraged.

Kit dug in ravenously. Crying had created a cavern inside of her, an empty hollow that became filled as she ate. While she gulped down the milk, she scanned the room. The walls were white and mostly bare, except for two framed prints on the farthest end. The plaque by the computer and pen jar read "Hannah Tupper, Counselor."

"How long have you worked here?"

"Long enough," Hannah replied goodnaturedly. "I've been here through most of the renovations and watched thousands of feet walk through these halls. But some things are always the same."

"Like what?"

"Like that look in your eyes. Everyone's felt lost at one point or another," said Hannah knowingly, reaching forward to sweep the muffin crumbs into the trash can.

Kit averted her eyes, unready to open up just yet. On Hannah's desk sat a coral paperweight—curious, she reached forward and picked it up. The texture was familiar, comforting.

"Where'd you get this?"

"A gift, from a friend," beamed Hannah. "He likes to travel and picks up little trinkets for me here and there."

Kit bit back a smile. She imagined Hannah's admirer with an unruly white beard and a gruff voice but crinkles by his eyes. She pictured them sitting down across from each other with cups of tea.

"I used to collect coral pieces and shells back…back home," swallowed Kit.

"And where was that home?"

"Florida," said Kit. "I used to go down to the beach almost every weekend, before…" She could feel the tears starting to prick her eyes again.

"I suspect there's more plaguing you than just homesickness," Hannah said, softly.

It all spilled out, then: learning to swim, visiting the zoo and the aquarium, reading books in her grandfather's study, baking on Saturday mornings, walks through the neighborhood, and then her grandfather's deteriorating health, his eventual death; her blunders in her new household, at the mall, at work, in class. Hannah listened patiently through it all.

When it was done, she patted Kit's hand. "It sounds like it's been quite a whirlwind for you."

Kit shrugged, drained. "Some days it's not so bad. I know Aunt Rachel doesn't mind me being here, and Mercy's so kind and understanding and Judith tries, too, in her own way, but I don't think Uncle likes me much. And I still feel like a burden."

Hannah swiveled in her seat, drawing Kit's attention to a potted flower by the back window. The flower's petals were unfurled, turned towards the sun in a gesture of openness.

"You know what I've always loved about plants?" said Hannah. "I think it's beautiful that they find a way to grow, no matter what. You put a flower anywhere and it'll find its way towards the sun."

The bell rang, startling Kit. She jumped up, dusting off her pants. "I should go to class," she blurted.

Hannah smiled, nodding.

At the door, Kit paused. "Thank you," she said. "For the muffin, and for listening and…for everything." She glanced towards the flower perched on the windowsill. "I think I get what you're saying."

"I hope you'll drop by again some time, dear."

"I'd like that," said Kit. She darted away, feeling like a giant weight had been lifted.

o.O.o

"Where were you during lunch?" asked Judith as they walked to their lockers at the end of the day.

Kit held her notebook tighter. "I was with Hannah—er, Ms. Tupper."

Judith looked mystified. "The counselor? That old lady?"

Kit shifted uncomfortably. "She's really kind."

Judith wrinkled her nose. "Well, yeah, that's her job, but still…nobody talks to her. I bet three-quarters of the people here don't even know where her office is, me included."

"Well." Kit stopped upon noticing that William was, once again, waiting at her locker.

Judith followed her gaze. "He's probably waiting for an answer to that second date he proposed."

Kit continued on while Judith hung behind. Still in high spirits from her conversation with Hannah, she greeted him warmly. "Hi, William. How can I help you?"

Straight to the point, William asked, "Are we still on for lunch this Saturday?"

Kit hesitated. She could sense some people taking notice of their conversation. A few girls slowed down as they passed by, studying Kit and William curiously before continuing on, their heads bent close together as they whispered. But it was a different kind of whispering; there was an air of reverence to it, a quiet awe.

Kit studied William. She remembered the flower in Hannah's room finding its way towards the sun. Maybe this was her sign—maybe William was the foot in the door towards finding her place in this school. Being around him seemed to cast her in a different light. He had an aura of silent confidence that came from knowing his place. Maybe being around him would transfer some of it to her. Maybe, in time, she'd also learn to belong.

So she nodded and smiled again. "Yes."


	8. Chapter 8: Tranquility

**Chapter 8.**

* * *

><p>It took Kit a few more days before she could muster the courage to drop by Hannah's office again. When she did, she rapped on the door timidly, unsure of how she'd be received.<p>

She didn't have to worry. Hannah swung the door open, ushering, "Come in, come in!" As Kit entered the room, it felt like she was stepping into someone's home, not an office. She took a seat as Hannah settled behind her desk and resumed typing on the computer.

"What brings you back, dear?"

"I wanted to thank you again. And I thought…I thought I'd drop by, just because. I hope I'm not being a bother," faltered Kit.

Hannah smiled at her. "It's always nice to have a visitor. I could use some more conversation."

Kit exhaled, relieved. "Do people visit you often, Hannah?"

"I'm afraid not," sighed Hannah. "I wish they would. But children your age are often so determined to seem strong, and besides, they don't think an old lady like me could possibly understand."

"Does it get any easier, when you're older?"

Hannah's eyes twinkled. "What part? Seeming strong?"

"Knowing what you're supposed to do, I guess," said Kit. "Although I suppose seeming strong would be part of it."

The doorknob turned, making Kit jump in surprise. A blond head poked through, declaring, "I have those copies you needed, Hannah."

Kit looked up to see Nat pushing through the doorway, balancing a stack of papers with one hand. He looked startled when their eyes met but recovered quickly, striding across the room to deposit the pile on Hannah's desk.

"Oh, Nat, you're such a sweetheart," beamed Hannah, accepting the papers gratefully. "Look, I've made a new friend. This here is Kit."

Nat, whose back had been turned to Kit as he fiddled with the paperweight on Hannah's desk, turned finally to acknowledge her. "We've met before," he told Hannah, his eyes not leaving Kit's face.

Hannah clapped her hands. "What a wonderful coincidence!"

Nat smiled slightly but didn't say anything, pulling up a chair to sit across from Kit. He grabbed a rubber ball from Hannah's desk and began tossing it back and forth between his hands before, finally, asking, "So, how did you find Hannah?"

"It was more like she found me," admitted Kit.

"And in much the same way I found you, Nat," chuckled Hannah. "Hiding alone, crying miserably."

Nat and Kit both looked at each other in surprise. "You?" they said in unison.

Nat tilted his head slightly. "Mind you, I was ten."

"What were you doing here of all places when you were ten?"

"My older brother was starting high school here. My parents brought me along while they were talking with the principal—just introductory stuff, I guess. I'd already been feeling neglected—my brother was going through that phase where he was too cool to interact with me—and when they made me sit outside the room so I wouldn't be a disruption that was the final blow to my pride." Nat stopped tossing the ball between his hands, setting it down and leaning forwards with his elbows resting on his knees. "I got upset and decided to walk around. Next thing I knew I was lost and surrounded by all these lockers and white walls. I got mad and frustrated, and Hannah found me after I'd broken down and started crying."

Kit tried to picture a younger Nat wandering the halls but couldn't quite manage it. She knew the feeling, though. "Did Hannah give you a blueberry muffin, too?"

Nat grinned. "You bet."

"Is that your magic formula, then, Hannah? Muffins and milk?" asked Kit.

Hannah bowed her head slightly. "I've found that when your stomach's full your heart feels less empty."

"Do you make the muffins yourself?"

Hannah's eyes took on a faraway look. "No…Thomas and I make them together."

Confused, Kit opened her mouth to ask, "Who's Thomas?" but Nat shook his head imperceptibly at her. He reached out to cover Hannah's hand.

"They're delicious, Hannah," he said gently.

A beat, then: "Oh goodness me, I've been keeping you two too long, haven't I? You don't have this next period free, Nat." Hannah's eyes had cleared and she narrowed them good-naturedly at Nat, who sank back in his chair.

"Sometimes I think you know my schedule better than I do," he laughed.

"Nonsense," clucked Hannah. "You just choose to conveniently forget when you have to be somewhere."

Nat shrugged. "Listen to one of Professor Bulkeley's lectures sometime and then see if you can blame me." He nodded at Kit. "What class do you have next?"

"Math," answered Kit, following his lead and rising from her chair. "Thanks for letting me drop by, Hannah."

"You're always welcome here." Hannah smiled at her warmly, and Kit couldn't help a surge of affection and gratitude from washing over her once more. It was nice that she'd found this one quiet place in the middle of everything, one spot where she could just relax. She followed Nat out the door, pulling it shut behind her gently.

They walked in silence down the corridor. The back of Kit's mind prickled with a question. "Nat," she started finally, trying to catch his attention, "About Hannah…what was that thing with Thomas?"

"Her husband. He died a while back."

_But…_ Kit flashed back to the slackened gaze in Hannah's eyes and Hannah's use of present tense. _Oh,_ thought Kit, understanding. _Oh._

"If she gets like that…" Kit hesitated, trying to phrase her thoughts properly. "Is she really fit to be working?"

Nat shrugged. "We don't make those calls. If the school wants to keep her on hand, so be it, and while she's here someone ought to look out for her." He looked down at her out of the corner of his eye. "It's good that you found her. She definitely needs the company."

"She's a nice lady."

They'd almost rejoined the main hallway; Nat paused, and Kit, not wanting to be rude, stopped with him.

"I have a feeling that your time here hasn't been quite as nice, though," observed Nat.

Kit froze. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, if you had your choice of acquaintances, I doubt a little old lady would be high up on the list."

There was a laughing edge to his voice, and Kit's pleasant mood soured slightly. "Thanks for the concern, but I can assure you that I'm doing fine."

Nat shrugged. "Suit yourself. See you around, then." He turned on his heel and started walking away from her; Kit watched him go before spinning and heading in the opposite direction. She shook her head to clear her mind of Nat's laughing expression, clenching her fists. She wasn't going to have any of that—no more pity _or_ mockery, Kit resolved.

o.O.o

"Bus pass!" sang Judith, tossing the card at Kit. Kit groaned and sat up on her bed; it was Friday afternoon, and she was exhausted.

"What?" she asked blearily, squinting at the laminated rectangle.

"To get around, obviously," said Judith. "That way Mercy or Mom or I don't have to ferry you everywhere, especially since you're getting to be so popular."

Kit gulped. "You don't mean…I'll be alone?"

Judith rolled her eyes. "No way am I letting you out of my sight just yet. You're still practically helpless. But I'll show you all the major stops around town, so that way if you ever need to stay later at school or go somewhere one of these days on your own, you can just tell Mom and Dad and take the bus."

"Right." Kit reached for where her backpack sat on the floor and retrieved her wallet, tucking the pass away.

"Don't put it away, silly," said Judith. "We're going to take the bus to work." She checked her phone. "Hurry up and look presentable, we've got to get to the bus stop in ten minutes," she instructed before leaving the room.

Kit changed her shirt and brushed her hair before grabbing her purse and barreling down the stairs towards the front door, colliding with Uncle Matthew in the process.

"Watch where you're going!" he thundered, eyebrows pulling together in one of the irritated faces Kit had become all too used to seeing. He didn't exchange any other words with her, withdrawing to his study and slamming the door behind him.

Kit swallowed. The reception from her uncle wasn't anything unusual, but it continued to faze her. She remained slightly disoriented as she followed Judith to the bus stop, then onto the bus, snapping out of her cloud long enough to scan her pass.

As they sat down, Judith sighed. "Okay, spill. What's bothering you?"

"Nothing, I…" Kit looked down at her lap, embarrassed about the lump forming in her throat. Why did she keep getting worked up over silly things? Connecticut seemed to want to suck all the moisture from her until she didn't have any tears left. "I just…why does your dad hate me so much?"

Judith blinked, surprised. "He doesn't hate you."

"He doesn't?"

Judith shook her head. "No, he's just grumpy."

"Oh."

"He wasn't always like that, you know. So stern all the time."

Kit worked up the nerve to look Judith in the eye. "What happened?"

Judith leaned back to rest her head against the window. "Four years ago, Mom got pregnant again, this time with a boy. Dad was so happy because, well, he'd always wanted a son. But then…" she paused, "but then Mom miscarried, and it was hard on him. On both of them."

Kit felt hollow. "I had no idea."

Judith shrugged. "We don't talk about it much. Also, a lot of what you've seen this past month has been due to stress. Dad's got a big lawsuit on hand."

"What for?"

"Something to do with property rights; I'm not clear on all the specifics, but he feels really strongly about it. I don't know, I tend to tune out when he talks about it," laughed Judith. "Oh, look, here's our stop."

o.O.o

September approached with a rapidity Kit didn't know the months could possess. She'd found her rhythm by the end of August, throwing herself into homework and regular work when she wasn't at school, anything to keep out of Uncle Matthew's hair. It seemed to work. They got on a bit better, and his tone whenever he asked her to wash the dishes or take out the trash was more gruff than bitter, now.

When not in her room, the library became her refuge. Kit would take the bus to it after school and meander among the shelves. Sometimes she helped Mercy shelve the books; other times she found herself a chair to curl up in. In that manner, she got to interact more with John, who was often on the hunt for reference materials for some research project or the other. Of course, Judith wanted to be part of the budding friendship, so she began to accompany Kit—and then the four of them would all find themselves at the library, studying.

"Why are you in history class with us if you're a senior?" Kit asked one day.

John looked up from his book, smiling. "The way my classes worked out at my old school, I'd covered Government already, but not Professor Bulkeley's particular brand of history, so I decided to sit in."

Judith yawned. "He's such a bore. I don't understand why you're so in love with him."

The tips of John's ears turned pink. "I'm not in _love_ with him," he protested.

Judith laughed, poking his shoulder. "I know, I know. I'm only teasing, silly."

Kit couldn't figure out if John was blind to Judith's advances or simply chose to ignore them. Almost as soon as their study sessions began, Judith had repeatedly secured the seat beside John, leaving Mercy and Kit on the other end of the table. She would make a show of asking John about history and theology, even though Kit knew Judith had little interest in either. John obliged her, but usually by the end of the evening they ended up splitting off by grade. John and Mercy would study together, and Kit and Judith would puzzle through their own homework, and then they would part ways and head home. Aunt Rachel had suggested to the girls that John come over for dinner, but Judith had adamantly rejected the idea: "God, I'm not _that_ desperate."

Thinking of Judith's love life turned Kit's mind towards her own. Her second "date" with William hadn't been any more entertaining than the first. They'd gone to a little café instead of the diner, but the change of scenery hadn't done much to the quality of conversation. At the end of it, William hadn't extended an offer for the next Saturday, which relieved Kit. She needed breathing room.

"You probably scared him off," complained Judith when Kit had told her the details. "Now _I_'_m_ going to have to babysit you during homecoming."

Kit didn't mind that much. At school, William waved to her in the hallways, a fact that hadn't gone unnoticed. It felt…special, to be noticed for good reasons rather than embarrassing ones, and Kit had perfected appearing as if she didn't notice the curious stares when she and William passed by each other.

_Let them wonder_, she thought merrily, back to her old spirits. _Now that I've finally started to figure things out._

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><p><strong>AN:** Five months since the last update, yeeeesh. But don't fret, my friends! I've written the ending scene and outlined the whole story, which is _huge_ for me because I normally never write outlines. So, yeah, I am going to finish this no matter how long it takes. That said, now that I'm on summer break, hopefully I can crank out several more chapters and at least have a rough draft completed before junior year hits . Thank you thank you thank you to all of you for being so patient and supportive, and I hope you continue to enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it :)


	9. Chapter 9: Instructions

**Chapter 9.**

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><p>Homecoming flyers had gone up. Kit peered at the one near her locker as she zipped her bag closed. <em>I'm going to drop by Hannah's today,<em> she decided as she bent to gather the rest of her belongings in her arms. She hadn't visited the kindly counselor in a while, and even though she knew Nat probably went out of his way to help Hannah, she wanted to contribute, too.

As she straightened, something caught the corner of Kit's eye. She whipped her head around in time to catch sight of someone's hair disappearing around the hall. "Hello?" called Kit.

No response, but she heard someone's feet skittering. Frowning, Kit followed the noise. She rounded the corner in time to see the frail, skinny back of a little girl—"Prudence?"

Prudence halted, turning guiltily.

"What are you doing here?" asked Kit, walking towards her.

"I…" Prudence shuffled her feet, looking down at the floor. "Mommy brings me here after school sometimes when Daddy's not home. Usually I just sit outside her office, but I got bored and I… I didn't mean to be a bother."

Kit gaped. "You're not being a bother at all! But what do you do while your mom works?"

"Just sit," said Prudence, glumly. "Sometimes I do my math homework."

"How about reading? I know a good book always helps me pass the time."

"I can't read." Prudence's voice was barely above a whisper.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, well…Mommy says I'm dyslexic." Prudence struggled with the last word, her mouth crumpling around it.

"That doesn't mean you can't read," Kit said gently.

"I don't like to."

"Why not?"

"Because the other kids look at me funny when I do."

At this, Kit felt her heart squeeze. How awful, to not be able to find solace in the written word because of what others said; how awful, to suffer those stares without any means of escape.

"Come with me," Kit resolved.

Prudence looked over her shoulder, worried. "To where?"

"Have you met Hannah?"

Prudence shrank away from Kit slightly. "Mommy says she's a crazy old lady."

Kit laughed. "Not at all! She's the sweetest person ever, I promise. Are you allowed to walk around?"

Prudence nodded. "Mommy tells me not to bother her when she's working. I just have to be back at her office by six."

"It's four now; that gives us two hours, and don't worry, we'll still be right here in the building." Kit started to walk towards Hannah's room, but Prudence didn't follow. "Come on, Prudence," coaxed Kit. "I promise you, nothing bad will happen, and if you don't like her I'll walk with you back to your mom's office, okay? But you should give her a chance."

"I…" Prudence grappled with the decision for a little longer before hurrying to Kit's side. Together, they walked down the hall.

o.O.o

"I've brought you another friend, Hannah," introduced Kit as she opened the door. Prudence stepped in behind her, her arms wrapped around herself. Hannah beamed at her and got busy setting out a muffin and a milk carton, crooking a finger towards Prudence.

"No need to be afraid, dear," she encouraged. "Are you hungry?"

Prudence looked towards Kit for guidance. "It's delicious," promised Kit, smiling.

Prudence tiptoed towards the chair and sat in it, nibbling at the muffin cautiously at first before she quickly devoured the rest. As Kit watched her eat, she tried to decide what to do. She wanted to help Prudence—Kit of all people knew how it felt to be ridiculed—but wasn't sure how. As she looked around Hannah's room at the different instruction manuals about how to confront children, how to talk about difficult situations, an idea began to take root in her mind. It was no different from what Mercy did at the library sometimes, Kit reasoned. And maybe the personal attention, away from other prying eyes, was just what Prudence needed to build up some confidence.

"Prudence, you said you didn't like to read because the other kids made you feel embarrassed," started Kit.

Prudence, relaxed and content after Hannah's food, nodded.

"Well, what if I helped you with your reading?"

"Here?" asked Prudence.

"Yes, it would just be you, me, and Hannah—if that's all right with Hannah, of course," Kit added hurriedly, realizing she hadn't consulted Hannah before offering up the room.

Hannah waved a hand at them. "You can use my room however you'd like."

"What do you think, Prudence?"

Prudence mulled it over. "Just us?" she repeated.

"Just us."

"Okay," agreed Prudence.

"Wonderful!" Kit beamed. "What do you say about us starting tomorrow? I'll bring you a book so you don't have to worry about anything. Just meet me here, okay?"

o.O.o

The next afternoon, Kit hurried to Hannah's to find Prudence already there, staring at her lap and swinging her legs back and forth. Kit deposited her bag on the ground before pulling some picture books she had gotten from the library the night before. Mercy had looked at them in amusement but hadn't asked. Kit didn't have any specific plan for instructing Prudence; all she knew was that she wanted to show the girl how much fun reading could be. If she could share even a portion of the gift her grandfather had bestowed upon her, Kit knew it'd be worth it.

Prudence started falteringly, pausing between every word to glance furtively at Kit. Kit nodded encouragingly, spurring her to go on. Hannah's typing provided a pleasant background noise, and she said little.

"There, now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" asked Kit after Prudence finished the first book.

"It wasn't smooth. I…I stopped too much."

"But you kept going, and that's what matters," said Kit. She looked at the notebook where she'd jotted down words that had given Prudence trouble. "Try this word again."

"Grown," Prudence said carefully, pronouncing it like "gown."

Kit tilted her head. "That's a good guess," she said, "but this one's different. It rhymes with 'own,' see?" she demonstrated.

Prudence repeated the word, modifying her pronunciation before frowning. "But how do I tell?"

Kit hesitated, stumped. "Well," she started, "think of it like this. The main word is 'grow,' right?"

Prudence nodded.

"And 'grown' comes from 'grow,' you're just adding on the letter 'n'; but think of it as the 'n' is just tagging along, so the main sound stays the same." Biting her lip, Kit reached for a pen and wrote out another word on her notepad. "Like this word, here."

"Show," read Prudence.

"Right. So if we add an 'n'…"

"Shown."

"What if the word were 'mow'?"

"Mown!" exclaimed Prudence.

"There you have it! So when you see words like these, see if you can find the main word when you take off the 'n' and that'll give you a clue to how to say it," said Kit. "Now, there's another combination of letters that makes this sound, and that's 'oa,' like in 'groan,' see?" she said, writing out the word.

Prudence looked from "grown" to "groan," biting her lip. "They rhyme?"

"Yes. Can you think of any other rhyming words that might be spelled this way?" asked Kit.

Prudence shook her head. Kit placed a thumb over the "gr," showing only the "oan" part. "You've got this, Prudence," she said. "What's a letter we could put in front of these that would make a word?"

"M?" Prudence said after deliberating.

"There's one! Moan," said Kit. "And I can think of another one—loan!"

Prudence giggled. "What do those mean?"

"Well, a loan is when you let someone borrow something. Like how I'm going to loan you this book so you can read it again at home," explained Kit, holding it out to Prudence.

Prudence put her hands up. "N-no, I couldn't," she stuttered, her shoulders sinking a little. "Mommy would find it, and then she'd ask questions…" she trailed off, looking at her feet.

"You haven't told her about this?"

"No."

"Is it because she would get mad?"

Prudence's chin jutted out as she hesitated. "Maybe."

"Oh, Prudence." Kit should have known. She'd already had one encounter with the woman. Why hadn't she thought about it before, that Principal Cruff might be less than pleased to have her daughter interacting with a spoiled rich girl and a 'crazy old lady'? Or did it have to do with the reading? Who could begrudge their child _reading?_ _Or maybe,_ whispered a voice at the back of Kit's mind, _she doesn't want to see her daughter put effort into something only to watch her fail. _Kit bit her lip. "What if I left it in here, with Hannah? I won't be here tomorrow because I have to work, but you could still come by and read it on your own. I'm sure Hannah would even help you if you need it."

Prudence considered it before nodding. Some of the confidence slipped back into her shoulders, making her sit more upright.

"And I'll try to find some more fun ones for next week," said Kit.

Prudence reached for the book, tugging it into her lap and tracing over the words on its cover. Her hair fell in her face. "Thanks, Kit," she said softly.

Kit's smile broke over her like a wave. "You're welcome, Prudence."

o.O.o

"What is he doing here?" whispered Kit as she tied on her apron, gesturing furtively to the broad-shouldered boy walking through the door.

Judith stared at her blankly. "I told him you worked here. He's been trying to talk to you, but you kept disappearing right after school this whole week so I told him it'd be better if he just met you here."

Surprised, Kit let go of the elastic band she was using to tie up her hair, snapping herself on the finger. "What?"

"Don't look so surprised—I _told_ you this was coming!" said Judith, not bothering to hide the excitement in her voice. "Oh, looks like I have to take an order. Run the cash register, will you?" Judith smiled sweetly, sashaying away from the counter as William approached. She held her notepad up to cover the left side of her face as she mouthed, "Don't mess this up."

Kit opened her mouth to respond, but someone's chest obscured her view of Judith.

"Hi, welcome to Skio's Short Stop. How may I help you?" Kit began immediately, trying to calm her nerves.

"Hello, Kit."

"Hello, William," she relented, recognizing his eyes were focused on her rather than the menu.

"I haven't seen you lately."

"I've been busy."

"So it appears."

"Yes, well I…um…it's nice to see you, William," said Kit, fiddling with the string at the back of her apron. She tried to call up the confidence she'd recovered over the past few weeks, but it was chased away by William's expectant gaze. If only he would _say_ something more than just a few words! Kit had had all sorts of plans about how their next encounter would go, but in her imaginings, she'd forgotten how difficult conversation with William could be.

"You look nice."

"I…" Kit patted her hair. "Thank you?"

William reached for a plastic cup and started to play with it, running a finger along the rim as he mustered his words. Kit was grateful that there wasn't a customer waiting behind him. "Are you going to the homecoming game?"

Kit blinked. "Yes."

William nodded, setting the cup back down and straightening. "In that case, would you go to the dance with me?"

Kit's mind went blank. What had Judith said about this? _It's a big deal. Don't mess this up._ "William, I'm—"

"She'd love to." Judith had magically materialized behind the counter, her elbow jabbing into Kit's side. She turned her bright blue eyes to William, beaming. "Hi there, William, can I take your order?"

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><p><strong>AN: **Slowly chugging along! Any thoughts or opinions are lovely! :)


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